Let's get cracky and smacky and stop being tacky, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers
South Carolina Gov./ horndog, Mark Sanford, said his Argentine tryst was "a forbidden, tragic love story." If you were previously considered a world class a-hole, congratulations, Sanford just raised the bar and you are off the hook.
Is it possible for this guy to shut up? He is more annoying than Joe Biden on Redbull.
"Rolling Stone" magazine features the Jonas Brothers on the cover; along with Madonna's induction to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, this officially places the last nail in the coffin of rock and roll.
Karl Malden passed at 97. If he could have just made it a little less than three years to his birthday, March 22, he would have been one hundred on the nose.
In one of the great celebrity ironies, Micheal Jackson's death just out-nosed Karl Malden's.
Since you asked:
So I got me this planter fasciitis - tendinitis under the foot - that is totally manageable unless I hop up on my feet after sitting for a while. Then it feels like a big sharp rock is stuck in the bottom of my foot.
This is how it was when I jumped up to get the mail today. But rather than show weakness and limp, I affected a "Damn it's good to be a Gangstah" pimp roll to the mail box and, instead of thinking me old and frail, the neighbors thought they were witnessing a total bad ass.
Talk about making lemonade out of lemons . . .
Hounds
Kasey is still the sweet, worried-looking honey bear she has been since a puppy. But that ol' Wrigley T. houndoggy dog has to be the most opinionated dog I have ever seen.
He whines/howls the second he decides he wants to be fed. Try to get him out of bed too early and he gives you cursory "Hi, now go away" thump wag of his tail. He whines/howls when he wants to come inside.
And when he wants to be petted, he plops sitting down right in front of your face and bats you with his big puppy paw until you pet him. You stop before he wants you to? He bats you again. And again. Or he sticks his muzzle and big dumb head under your hand until you commence to scratching his big hound dog ears. Then he arches his head back as if he was a King saying;
"We are amused."
Sagacity, no two ways about it, to paraphrase a Mark Twain character in "Roughing It." Sagacity.
Twenty years ago, if somebody told you, on this date, you would be doing a hell of a lot better than Michael Jackson, would you have believed it?
Man, Michael could have stopped at crazy ten years ago and everything would have been fine. No, he had to take way past just crazy.
South Carolina Gov./ horndog, Mark Sanford, said his Argentine tryst was "a forbidden, tragic love story." If you were previously considered a world class a-hole, congratulations, Sanford just raised the bar and you are off the hook.
Is it possible for this guy to shut up? He is more annoying than Joe Biden on Redbull.
"Rolling Stone" magazine features the Jonas Brothers on the cover; along with Madonna's induction to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, this officially places the last nail in the coffin of rock and roll.
Karl Malden passed at 97. If he could have just made it a little less than three years to his birthday, March 22, he would have been one hundred on the nose.
In one of the great celebrity ironies, Micheal Jackson's death just out-nosed Karl Malden's.
Since you asked:
So I got me this planter fasciitis - tendinitis under the foot - that is totally manageable unless I hop up on my feet after sitting for a while. Then it feels like a big sharp rock is stuck in the bottom of my foot.
This is how it was when I jumped up to get the mail today. But rather than show weakness and limp, I affected a "Damn it's good to be a Gangstah" pimp roll to the mail box and, instead of thinking me old and frail, the neighbors thought they were witnessing a total bad ass.
Talk about making lemonade out of lemons . . .
Hounds
Kasey is still the sweet, worried-looking honey bear she has been since a puppy. But that ol' Wrigley T. houndoggy dog has to be the most opinionated dog I have ever seen.
He whines/howls the second he decides he wants to be fed. Try to get him out of bed too early and he gives you cursory "Hi, now go away" thump wag of his tail. He whines/howls when he wants to come inside.
And when he wants to be petted, he plops sitting down right in front of your face and bats you with his big puppy paw until you pet him. You stop before he wants you to? He bats you again. And again. Or he sticks his muzzle and big dumb head under your hand until you commence to scratching his big hound dog ears. Then he arches his head back as if he was a King saying;
"We are amused."
Sagacity, no two ways about it, to paraphrase a Mark Twain character in "Roughing It." Sagacity.
Twenty years ago, if somebody told you, on this date, you would be doing a hell of a lot better than Michael Jackson, would you have believed it?
Man, Michael could have stopped at crazy ten years ago and everything would have been fine. No, he had to take way past just crazy.
posted by Alex at
10:55 AM
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